TwentyFour Hours
by Ringtailer720
Summary: A response to the ultimateSora's Fanfiction Challenge. A lot can happen over the course of a day, with Wanda being Wanda and mischief spreading over Walkerville like the plague. Not for the serious.


Here it is, a response to **the ultimateSora**'s Fanfiction Challenge:

**- Ralphie helps D.A. overcome a physical fear  
- Wanda and Arnold have a screaming fight over something Phoebe did  
- Someone streaks while sober  
- Carlos throws a party at someone in the gang's house when that person's parents are gone for the weekend  
- Arnold has a bunch of freshman girls following him around  
- Janet slaps Phoebe for something Phoebe did  
- Phoebe's caught in a closet with a guy (any guy)  
- Tim buys a motorcycle which gets Janet's attention (good or bad)  
- Someone breaks an arm**

**Warnings:** This fic contains high levels of crack-related goodness. And a drunk Frizzle. Do not read for seriousness, as I sold the rest of that at my garage sale. This is also probably my longest oneshots so far.

**Disclaimer:**The Magic School Bus and all related works belong to Johanna Cole and people who are not me.  
**Edit:** Thanks to Gilraen Narmolanya for pointing out my little name error.

* * *

How had she gotten into this mess?

Phoebe remembered. Wanda had gotten sick of her always bringing up her old teacher that the other teenager had snapped. She'd plotted for weeks; Phoebe was sure, in order to trap not only herself but Mr. Seedplot in one of Walkerville Elementary's janitor's closets. It was an understatement to say that Phoebe was mortified at the thought of nearly touching her former teacher. She'd turned her back on him almost as soon she was sure the door was locked.

"When I come back here in three hours things had better be different!" Wanda's voice cut through the thick material, and Phoebe gave a silent sob. She was so embarrassed.

"Phoebe?"

She almost died when he set his hand on her shoulder.

* * *

Meanwhile, Wanda had made her way to the Friz's classroom, where Arnold had gone on ahead of Phoebe to visit the third grade teacher. She walked in as innocent as possible and hoped that neither one would find out about what she did.

She was surprised to find the two of them in Ms. Frizzle's closet. Arnold, who was much taller now at nineteen, was retrieving something off of the top shelves for Ms. Frizzle. The Friz didn't even look her way, but she addressed Wanda all the same.

"Where's Phoebe?"

"She's with Mr. Seedplot."

"That's nice. Where exactly are they meeting?"

Arnold had just caught a look of Wanda's 'deer in the headlights' look a moment before she slammed the door shut and locked it. Ms. Frizzle pounced on the doorknob, trying and failing to open the door. "Open the door, Wanda."

"Why?"

"I'm no longer your teacher, therefore, you'd better open the door or you'll regret not doing so when I told you to."

Arnold had to give her credit; she spoke with all the calm and underlying threat of a psycho killer about to strike. She was, however, strangely venomous today. Maybe she had her period, Arnold thought briefly, before the mental images turned his stomach. "Please open the door, Wanda."

"I would, but I think I'm going to let you suffer for about three hours. I'm sick and tired of hearing about her and Mr. Seedplot all the time."

Arnold had no clue what was going on. "What are you on, Wanda?!"

"She tells us girls about all her little dreams and fantasies, and last time at Keesha's slumber party, she dared one of us to go steal a pair of his boxers."

"That's a lie and you know it!" Arnold yelled, but was ignored by the frantic Ms. Frizzle and the angry Wanda outside.

"How the hell would you know? She wouldn't tell her boyfriend she did some crazy shit like that!"

"It's more likely that you're lying!"

Wanda huffed outside the door, and Arnold heard her stomp away. "I'm going to leave you here for _four_ hours then!"

Arnold would have run to the door and begun pounding on it with his fists, but he didn't like the way the Friz was shaking. He was glad that her closet was so big, but he would have given anything to be somewhere else right about now. He was afraid to say anything, because Ms. Frizzle might decide that he was as good as anyone to vent her anger out on. He could practically hear her teeth grind together.

_"Open this door now!"_

* * *

"I need some help, Ralphie. You're the only one who can help me."

Ralphie spun around in his chair, a pen to his lips and looking all the world like Don Corleone. "You come to me on the day of my mother's birthday to ask me for a favor?" He rasped, spot on with his impression. Dorothy Ann had to roll her eyes at his 'Godfather' impression. "Can't you be serious for one minute?"

Ralphie set the pen down on his desk, his eyes set. "I am serious, Dorothy Ann! My mother's birthday is today and I don't even know what to get her!"

"A birthday card and a bouquet of her favorite flowers," DA sighed, "Now will you help me?"

Ralphie wrote down the two suggestions on a piece of paper. "What's got you so worked up? Besides the usual, of course."

"I have this problem. See, last Friday Carlos and I were--um--we were--" Ralphie wriggled his eyebrows. "Go on." He sounded enthused.

"We were at Lover's Quarry and--"

Ralphie wolf-whistled and DA glared him down. "Well--one thing was leading to another but--I--I couldn't--"

"You choked before anything could happen?"

Dorothy Ann hung her head in shame. "I did. I have this irrational fear of my own body; that it's not good enough."

Ralphie leaned back in his chair. "Is that all? Well let me just say that is," his eyes appraised DA up and down, "just crazy. Carlos is a guy, for one thing, and another thing is that you aren't as bad as you think you are."

"That's easier said than done. I don't like looking into mirrors anymore if I can help it, and showers are just as awkward."

Ralphie looked outside his window, an idea forming inside his head about what to do. "I have your solution, Dorothy Ann, if you're willing to go through with it"

* * *

Janet lounged on her cousin's porch swing, watching as little kids ran by with their ice creams and people jogged by listening to their iPods. She took a sip of lemonade she'd taken from Arnold's mom's fridge and read the latest issue of _Cosmo_. She ignored the sound of the fire hydrant down the block gushing water into the street where children played.

Suddenly, she was distracted by the sound of a motorcycle coming down the street. Her eyes widened as the leather-clad biker pulled off in front of her house; she was equally as surprised when Tim pulled off the helmet and looked up at her.

"What are you doing here, Janet? Isn't this Arnold's house?"

Janet hastily set her magazine down on the swing. "Well, he and Terese went to go visit their teacher at the elementary school, and he said that as long as I didn't throw any wild parties, I was welcome to stay here. But enough about me," Janet leaned up against the railing of the porch, "Where'd you get the bike?"

"Oh this," Tim smiled and indicated the motorcycle he was standing behind; Janet could almost swear he was trying to turn her on. "I bought this for my nineteenth birthday."

He got back on top of his ride. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk to Arnold about something." He slid the helmet on his head and was just starting off when something quite unusual caught both their eyes.

Further on down the block, running in the direction Tim had just come from, was Dorothy Ann and Ralphie. It looked like the two had gone out for a daily jog; much like other people had been doing the first half of the day. Ralphie had a gym bag over his shoulder, and DA had headphones on. But something was definitely wrong with this picture, or with Janet's eyes, because she realized that they weren't just jogging.

They were streaking. Well, Dorothy Ann was; Ralphie actually had on some skin-colored boxer-briefs.

Seeing a naked Dorothy Ann run down the street wasn't something you saw often, but Janet had seen all that she ever wanted to. It also had affected Tim, for Janet turned her head in time to see Tim fall from his motorcycle and roll a few feet. The bike continued on for a good foot or two afterwards before falling to the ground. Janet had just witnessed her chance with Tim (and the bike).

"Oh Tim, are you okay?" She ran up, concern on her face. He pulled himself to his feet, holding his left arm gingerly.

"I think so, but my arm is broken."

"We can't have that!" Janet insisted, directing Tim over to her convertible. "We have to get you to a hospital."

As Janet pulled out of the driveway, Carlos poked his head out of the bushes next to Arnold's house. He grinned, switching between watching the two drive off and his girlfriend's retreating naked body. "This calls for a celebration"

* * *

"I think I'm gonna kill her when I get a hold of her..." The Friz murmured, an empty bottle of some fruity wine cooler in her hand. Arnold nodded, the effects of his own alcoholic drink dumbing him down a bit.

Things had gone from bad to worse as soon as Wanda had left. Ms. Frizzle had kicked and screamed at the door for about fifteen minutes before she'd decided it was a lost cause. Then, she'd had a stroke of inspiration and retrieved a fair amount of cases of wine coolers from a hidden compartment in the closet. She had two or three before her judgment was impaired enough to offer Arnold a few despite him not being legal for another two years. She'd snorted at that point when Arnold had made it, spilling half her drink on the floor next to her.

"Oh Arnold, you need to loosen up some! I used to drink underage when I was a teenager, and I turned out just fine." Arnold, friends with Ralphie and Carlos, had already experimented with alcohol. But he had never been offered a drink from an adult, and his old teacher no less, and he wasn't about to tell the Friz that.

That had been several drinks ago, but the red-haired teen wasn't so sure; he'd forgotten how to count an hour ago.

"How many drinks have you had?" He slurred a bit.

She perked up a bit and set the drink down to count on her fingers, unaware that she hadn't set it down properly and it had spilled all over. She looked to be really concentrating as she struggled to see her fingers. Finally, she held up a few.

"T'is many!" She turned back to her drink but found it spilled all over. "Oops!" Then she burst into hysterical laughter. Arnold joined in; everything seemed funnier when you were drunk, even being trapped in a closet with an older woman who happened to be your third grade teacher.

"Ms. Frizzle, why were you so upset earlier?"

"I was?" She looked confused for a moment but then drunken comprehension spread across her face. "Oh yes, I remember now...I got dumped by my boyfriend."

Arnold regarded her fallen features; she looked about ready to cry. "I guess he thinks I'm just too old and ugly for him and wants to bang some young college girl or something." Just as Arnold had feared, she broke down into drunken sobs of grief. He never liked it when girls cried, so he went over and hugged her.

"There, there. I think you're very pretty." She turned watery green eyes to study him. "Really?"

He had to admit, she was pretty attractive for an older woman. "Sure! I don't know who What's-his-name is, but he's a stupid idiot if he doesn't see it."

The two stared each other in the face before Arnold gave her an alcohol-infused kiss.

* * *

Mr. Seedplot shifted a bit, and Phoebe jerked as he rubbed against her bottom. Her face reddened, but luckily he couldn't see it in the dark.

"Sorry. I really have to go to the bathroom."

She understood the feeling well; Wanda had neglected that aspect of the situation. "I'm regretting having that glass of lemonade at Arnold's house now." She squirmed where she stood. She was also bored and her legs were starting to ache from standing for almost three hours. When she looked past all the inconveniences, she realized it wasn't so bad. At least he was in here to keep her company, and his cologne was a welcome over the smells of cleaning products.

"So what were you doing here in the first place?"

He chuckled, and with their closeness she felt the rumble of his chest. "It will sound really stupid and ridiculous,"

"Nonsense," Phoebe prodded onward.

"I made a mistake that I want to fix. I told Valerie--"

"Ms. Frizzle?"

"--Yes, I told her that we were through the other night, and I think she took it a little too hard. I didn't tell her why we needed to end it though."

Phoebe's heart rose again at the thought of him still wanting to end his relationship, but at the same time she felt guilty wanting an end to Ms. Frizzle's romantic relationship. "May I ask why?"

"Promise you won't be revolted by it?"

She turned around, a big feat in such small quarters, and looked up into the general vicinity of his face. "As long as it doesn't include some sick obsession like zoophilia, I don't care!" In secret, she hoped that his 'revolting secret' dealt with something along the lines of Lolita and that he thought she was perfect for his next girlfriend, but she didn't let on about that.

"I came to the realization that I, having met someone more my type, that I wanted a relationship with her friend."

"Oh."

"But it would be bad enough if it were one of her female friends." The hair on the back of her neck prickled ominously. "What do you mean, Mr. Seedplot?"

"I came to the conclusion that I was," he paused, as if fighting to get the word out, "gay."

Phoebe wanted nothing more than to sink down to her knees, her mind shocked. A minute went by, and the teacher grew concerned. "Are you okay, Phoebe?"

The teenager started laughing, turning around to face the wall so she could hit it. She wasn't sure of her reasoning behind the laughing, whether it was because she had thought the situation much worse (he made it seem like somebody had died), or because she was beyond tears of sadness and anger at the thought that she couldn't have him.

Wanda chose this time to unlock the door, having listened in on the last five minutes of the conversation. Truth to be told, she was expecting something like that from the teacher, but Phoebe's reaction was unexpected.

"I--can't--oh my--ha ha ha!" Phoebe collapsed against her, leaving the very confused Mr. Seedplot inside the closet. Wanda looked from him to Phoebe. "Don't worry, Seedplot. She's not laughing at you. She's just been overwhelmed and finally snapped."

Wanda supported the taller girl as she started hiccupping after all her laughter, and turned to say one final thing to the man who was still standing in the small space.

"You can come out of the closet now, Mr. Seedplot"

* * *

Ralphie ran around Arnold's living room, his shirt off and a pair of pants on his head like a makeshift hat. Keesha covered her eyes with her hand as she sat on the couch. Right next to her sat Tim, his arm in a cast, and Janet, who was waiting on him hand and foot. The three of them were the only ones who appeared not to be having fun.

Around them, an assortment of college students were eating, drinking and making a mess that Arnold would eventually have to clean up.

Carlos walked into the room; his pants unzipped, and behind him walked Dorothy Ann, who realized that she found walking about in the buff quite thrilling. She stood in nothing but a pair of tube socks, a headband, and her iPod. Carlos stopped Ralphie in his tracks the next time he cruised on past.

"I don't know what you did or how you did it, but I owe you one," Carlos whispered.

Ralphie shrugged it off. "It was nothing." He finally paused in his revelry to look around him at all the wild action. "Wow, Arnold's mom is going to kill you when she finds out."

"Arnold's parents are out of town until Monday, remember?"

"Speaking of Arnold--"

Just as Keesha was about to say something, Wanda brought a still-snickering Phoebe to sit on the couch. "So who threw the party, and why was I not informed?" She scolded, still rubbing Phoebe's back in an attempt to work some sense back into her. Her friends, plus Janet, stared at the two without saying anything.

"Wanda, what did you do to break Phoebe?" Keesha prodded.

Wanda straightened up, about ready to defend herself when Phoebe broke into another round of laughter as she explained.

"I wasted--ha ha--a good eleven years--ha ha--of my life with a crush on--ha ha--Mr. Seedplot to find that he was--ha ha--a homosexual!"

Everyone was silent, until Janet slapped her across the face. "My mother is a closet homosexual, so don't laugh about it you littl--"

"Hold on Janet!" Keesha butted in, "Phoebe's okay with that kind of thing, but she always did want something to go on between her and Mr. Seedplot, and now that he's come out of the closet--"

"Literally and figuratively!" Wanda exclaimed.

"Yes, and now that it happened she feels a complete emptiness inside for having hung on to something futile." Keesha finished, but then registered what Wanda had said. She turned to the other girl, her eyes wide. "Wait, '_literally_'?"

Wanda nodded, "Yes, I locked Phoebe and Seedplot in the janitor's closet just before going to see Arnold and--" A new look of horror dawned on Wanda, as she finally remembered what she'd forgotten to do at the school. She looked over at the clock that read '1:54'. It had been way longer than four hours.

"Oops"

* * *

The eight made their way to the school the next morning and down the familiar hallway to the Friz's classroom. Little did they know that they were followed by a few of the freshman girls from the last night's party. The school had been closed all night, so Wanda was forced to come back in broad daylight. Despite her apprehension, the others made her the one to open the door (she did deserve to get torn limb from limb more than they did, after all).

When the door opened, the assembled all gasped in horror.

Arnold and Ms. Frizzle's clothes were strewn about the closet; the Friz herself was vomiting in a corner from the after effects of the alcohol she'd drunk, and Arnold was blinking his eyes blearily at the source of light. By the look of the floor and everything else in the room, the gang had to admit that what had happened had certainly been fun.

"What's goin' on?" Arnold yawned, and Phoebe gave another squeak before collapsing into another fit of hysterical giggles. Two surprises within twenty-four hours was too much for her. Arnold looked about himself, spotted his teacher in the corner, and then noted the love bites that covered both their bodies.

He opened his mouth to speak, or scream, but nothing came out. Instead, he ran out of the room and past his friends as naked as Dorothy Ann had been the day before. The gang remaining heard the shrill sound of the freshman girls, and moments later saw Arnold streak by, the freshman girls following him.

"Well, that certainly wasn't how I thought the day was going to go." Wanda commented, realizing a bit too late to stop talking one sentence earlier.

(End)

* * *


End file.
